


Hush

by Smauglicious



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dying John, Fae & Fairies, Fae Sherlock, M/M, Military John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:38:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9409796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smauglicious/pseuds/Smauglicious
Summary: Fae Sherlock coming to take battle wounded John away from this world.“Hush, brave soldier.” A smooth silky voice flowed into his ears just as he released a pain filled sob. John tilted his head towards the voice, a flood of calmness entering him as a gentle hand cupped his face, caressing it in an astral trance.





	

John staggered his way to the riverside, his abdomen wound bleeding. He limped his way there, his surroundings swirling and blending into a distant green. He couldn’t take it anymore as he fell to the ground with a thump, slightly bitter and sad that he had to die at this age. He still had so many things he wanted to do, still hadn’t found the love of his life, didn’t return to civilization. 

John was just going to die. Unbeknownst to the world. Right here in this godforsaken place. 

It had hurt, John was exhausted, his boots muddy, trousers heavy and torn, clothes drenched with blood. His face was covered in explosive powder and dark smudges, his sandy sun dried hair grey with soot. John stared up into the sky, lost and afraid, so very alone. Tears prickled his eyes, he really didn’t want to die. Not now. John stared into space for quite some time, feeling the life drain out of him as he winced, his mind clouded with desperation as he clutched his wounded side, a small sob escaping his lips. He turned to his side as he curled into a fetal position, deep breaths, he clutched his blood soaked shirt tighter.

“Hush, brave soldier.” A smooth silky voice flowed into his ears just as he released a pain filled sob. John tilted his head towards the voice, a flood of calmness entering him as a gentle hand cupped his face, caressing it in an astral trance. So light to the touch yet so grounding. 

“Hush and go to sleep.” It urged, as a presence loomed over him, kneeling down ever so gracefully. John squinted his eyes open, seeking comfort from that soothing voice. He looked up as he was entranced at once, his body relaxing and succumbing to its state. He looked at the man, white, pale with beautiful blazing blue eyes, his lips a perfect cupid bow tinged with pink. He looked feather light, lean, majestic, otherworldly. His hair was awe, luxurious black curls, smooth and on top of it was a crown made out of leaves, earthy. The raven hair man stood out to John so much, he wanted to cry at the beautifulness it had portrayed. His robes a simple white, one that reminded John of old ancient Greek. 

“Merci, have you came to take me?” John whispered, getting a little more tired as he strained to keep his eyes on the man. The man bent down and sat himself down, brushing John’s hair out of his forehead as he carded his soothing hand through John’s hair. His thumb swiping over John’s face, smiling a little as he gazed into John’s eyes, softening and understanding. 

“Yes, I have come to bring you with me.” He replied, gazing into the sky and back at John.

“Who are you?” John whispered, the pain slowly leaving him as he continued looking at Sherlock, never leaving his gaze. John could feel, his body becoming light and weightless, without burden. He closed his eyes a little, his face leaning into the being’s hand. He could feel the vibrations of the man, softly chuckling as he hummed, cradling John and laying John’s head into his lap as he continued patting John comfortingly. 

“I’m fae, dear warrior.” The being answered, voice distant as his fingers brushed over John’s eyes.

“I would not mind dying, if the last thing I see is you.” John whispered, his mind getting heavier like a warm blanket covering him. John could smell the being’s light scent, flowery, leafy, like the forest calling him in. Where all he was surrounded by was the very being of creation itself, nature, with all of its elements, the animals, the trees, the sky. 

All condensed into this one celestial being that was here, with him.

John could distantly remember, how his grandmother had told him about stories of fae, beautiful and pure, in the forest, the guardians. It had seemed so distant now. Distant and comforting and so filled with want. 

“Go to rest, young one.” The voice reasoned as the fae bent down to brush his lips against the dying soldier’s forehead, light and pure.

And then John Watson, a soldier of Afghanistan, bled to death by a gunshot wound on 12 September 2006.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Plot bunny just zoomed around in my head as always!


End file.
